Butt Piratin'
by Evilpyecat1987
Summary: A short and sweet UKUS fic. America and England take a vacation, with a night of fun and games Their location: Lake Huron. The date: Early August, 1980. Yes, there is Yaoi. THE OMAKE YOU ALL HAVE WAITED FOR IS IN! And fyi, it is USUK X3 Officially Complete! NEW: Chapter 7 is a notice of things to come
1. Chapter 1

So, this is basically a story about a random night that our beloved US and UK hook up for some smexy times ^^ You could say this takes place after "Operation Cherry Picker", but then again it stands alone, since I'm still working on it. This is for practice so I can write the "good stuff" in the upcoming chapters of "O.C.P", so I would appreciate any and all constructive criticisms. Thank you, and enjoy~

DISCLAIMER: HETALIA IS OWNED BY HIDEKAZ-SAMA AND STUDIO DEEN. I MAKE NO MONIES, AND USE THE CHARACTERS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY! ((because srsly, if I owned this show, it would be smut… smut everywhere XD))

Date: Sometime in early August, 1980

America needed a break.

He had been immersed in the huge stink over the Olympics being held in Moscow, plus giving his (feigned) best wishes to a Mr. Mugabe, the newest Prime Minister of the UK.

It was feigned because seriously, why did he care if England had a new boss man?

So, seeing that his schedule was going to be clear in August, along with England's as well, he set up a week for them to relax out on Lake Huron, one of the great lakes he and his brother, Canada, shared. This is where our story picks up at, with them on a large boat in the middle of said lake.

The water looked as though it was made of glass, a dark mirror reflecting the cloudy sky above. The only thing that disturbed the picture was the boat sitting on the lake. Manning the craft were two men.

One was a seasoned saior, having spent a vast number of years out on the open ocean as a privateer. Or pirate, whichever you prefer.

The other passenger was not so experiencd. But he still loved being on the water especially the water sheltered by the land that made up he and his brother's countries. And it was this love that was being discussed at the time we pick the story up. It is assumed you already know who the two men are.

"This is nice." America sat stretched out, his feet propped in a chair while the rest of him sprawled in another. He was nursing a bottle of beer, his gaze fixed out over the boat on the water. "Why didn't we do this before now? I mean, damn, I'm loving this!"

His companion, the one and only United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (England for this story), sat parallel to him on the other side of a table sitting between them, sipping contentedly at a glass rum on the rocks. He wouldn't be caught dead drinking what he referred to as "piss water" that passed as American lager. England cast the boy a sideways glance and chuckled. "Because it wasn't the right time, poppet. We needed to wait for a lull in our work schedules." He shifted in his seat and took another sip of his glass. "Besides, if we had came out here before, we wouldn't have been able to enjoy it. Someone, somewhere, would have been crawling all over us, demanding something."

America nodded. "True. But still, I would have like to have done this sooner. I love it out here. We could have made more than one trip before the cooler weather sets in." He drained his bottle and trashed it, fishing out another from the cooler sitting on the table. Popping the top, he took a quick swallow, wincing at the cold seizing his throat. "Maybe we could have got Mattie to have joined us."

"Perhaps." England finished off his glass as well, digging the almost empty bottle of liquor out of the cooler to refill it. "But I do understand you enthusiasm, either way. I do miss the days when I spent months at a time on my beloved ship, carrying out my duty to the crown." He gazed up at the sky, and grinned. "That was the life. Knicking Spain's gold… kicking the frog's arse… good times, they were. Good times."

A snicker escaped the younger one. "Only you would enjoy fighting that much."

England glared at him. "It's not funny! Back then, it was a serious business to be in. Privateering, that is."

"Please, privateering my ass! You were a pirate, plain and simple." Rolling his eyes, America polished off yet another beer, and was quick to grab another.

Growling, a finger was jabbed in his direction. "Privateer, you git! Pirates are cutthroat savages. I was nothing but a gentleman in my line of work." Annoyed with America's assessment of his former occupation, he partook of his bottle yet again, relishing the burn that coursed it's way down his throat to settle as a lovely warmth in his belly. "Really, America. The way you speak of it is like I was some kind of… well, criminal."

America, in turn, watched him, amazed the other could keep a straight face as England spun his web of utter bullshit. Oh, he knew all about the fabulous exploits of the infamous Captain Kirkland, courtesy of his former enemies France and Spain. But he really didn't mean for the expletive to slip from his lips as a mutter partially muffled by the top of his beer bottle.

"Hey, I heard that!"

Well, shit.

That same finger, long and elegant, if a bit on the bony side, poked his cheek viciously. "It is NOT bullshit. I won't claim to be a saint, but I certainly wasn't an unreasonable fellow. In fact, I would have to say I was very pleasant indeed."

Shaking his head, America shifted so he was able to look at England better, kind of laying on his side in the chair. "Are you honestly going to sit there and try to justify all the theft, rape, and murder you committed back then?"

"Are YOU going to sit there and make a case out of past events? If so, do tell me now so I may fetch a fresh bottle from the galley. This one is looking a bit spent." He waved the empty bottle by it's neck at America, who grabbed it and threw it away while laughing heartily. It was the casual approach to the topic that made it so funny. Being as old as the Brit was seemed to have its perks, one being a conscious clear of any wrong doing.

Or, it could be that he just didn't give a fuck. America believed this over the first answer.

"Anyways, I'm guessing that's the reason why you'd never take me with you on your trips, right?" Another bottle landed in the can, a full one replacing it.

England made a face that clearly showed his disgust as America chugged down the pitiful excuse for beer he was drinking. "Mostly it was because you were too young to be parted with your land at the time." He looked out over the lake, a line of dark grey cutting though the sky on the horizon, and moving in. "But I suppose you could say a small part of it was due to the possibility of you being exposed to unnecessary violence." He made a motion towards the sky, and the clouds heading their way. "It looks as though it might rain soon."

The other watched the sky a moment, then nodded once, moving to empty the rest of his bottle over the edge of their boat. "Shit…" He muttered, the beer having worked it's way through his blood stream, leaving him feeling quite dizzy and unsteady on his feet. "Damn, how many beers did I drink?! I have to piss something awful."

"What, since we've been out here? Eight." England was busy tidying up around their table, not wanting their trash to end up overboard in the water. "I say you should switch to the good stuff. You'll end up with a beer belly, drinking all those empty calories." Finishing his task, he gave America a salute with his glass, and made his way to the door that lead inside. "I'll be below if you need me for anything, alright?"

America waved him off, chunking the empty bottle in the secured waste basket, and made his way to the railing. Seeing as there was no one else around, he shrugged, and proceeded to piss off the side of the boat.

"Yeah, time to switch to the good stuff."

AN: Now, before y'all fly at me about the whole "England isn't a rapist" bit, let me clue you in on something. Pirates were not fluffy bunnies you could cuddle and be bffs with, okay? They stole your stuff, raped your ass, then killed you if they couldn't sell you for a profit. Keep that in mind. -_-


	2. Chapter 2

So, this is basically a story about a random night that our beloved US and UK hook up for some smexy times ^^ You could say this takes place after "Operation Cherry Picker", but then again it stands alone, since I'm still working on it. This is for practice so I can write the "good stuff" in the upcoming chapters of "O.C.P", so I would appreciate any and all constructive criticisms. Thank you, and enjoy~

DISCLAIMER: HETALIA IS OWNED BY HIDEKAZ-SAMA AND STUDIO DEEN. I MAKE NO MONIES, AND USE THE CHARACTERS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY! ((because srsly, if I owned this show, it would be smut… smut everywhere XD))

Date: Sometime in early August, 1980

America needed a break.

He had been immersed in the huge stink over the Olympics being held in Moscow, plus giving his (feigned) best wishes to a Mrs. Thatcher, the newest Prime Minister of the UK.

It was feigned because seriously, why did he care if England had a new boss?

So, seeing that his schedule was going to be clear in August, along with England's as well, he set up a week for them to relax out on Lake Huron, one of the great lakes he and his brother, Canada, shared. This is where our story picks up at, with them on a large boat in the middle of said lake.

The water looked as though it was made of glass, a dark mirror reflecting the cloudy sky above. The only thing that disturbed the picture was the boat sitting on the lake. Manning the craft were two men.

One was a seasoned saior, having spent a vast number of years out on the open ocean as a privateer. Or pirate, whichever you prefer.

The other passenger was not so experiencd. But he still loved being on the water especially the water sheltered by the land that made up he and his brother's countries. And it was this love that was being discussed at the time we pick the story up. It is assumed you already know who the two men are.

"This is nice." America sat stretched out, his feet propped in a chair while the rest of him sprawled in another. He was nursing a bottle of beer, his gaze fixed out over the boat on the water. "Why didn't we do this before now? I mean, damn, I'm loving this!"

His companion, the one and only United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (England for this story), sat parallel to him on the other side of a table sitting between them, sipping contentedly at a glass rum on the rocks. He wouldn't be caught dead drinking what he referred to as "piss water" that passed as American lager. England cast the boy a sideways glance and chuckled. "Because it wasn't the right time, poppet. We needed to wait for a lull in our work schedules." He shifted in his seat and took another sip of his glass. "Besides, if we had came out here before, we wouldn't have been able to enjoy it. Someone, somewhere, would have been crawling all over us, demanding something."

America nodded. "True. But still, I would have like to have done this sooner. I love it out here. We could have made more than one trip before the cooler weather sets in." He drained his bottle and trashed it, fishing out another from the cooler sitting on the table. Popping the top, he took a quick swallow, wincing at the cold seizing his throat. "Maybe we could have got Mattie to have joined us."

"Perhaps." England finished off his glass as well, digging the almost empty bottle of liquor out of the cooler to refill it. "But I do understand you enthusiasm, either way. I do miss the days when I spent months at a time on my beloved ship, carrying out my duty to the crown." He gazed up at the sky, and grinned. "That was the life. Knicking Spain's gold… kicking the frog's arse… good times, they were. Good times."

A snicker escaped the younger one. "Only you would enjoy fighting that much."

England glared at him. "It's not funny! Back then, it was a serious business to be in. Privateering, that is."

"Please, privateering my ass! You were a pirate, plain and simple." Rolling his eyes, America polished off yet another beer, and was quick to grab another.

Growling, a finger was jabbed in his direction. "Privateer, you git! Pirates are cutthroat savages. I was nothing but a gentleman in my line of work." Annoyed with America's assessment of his former occupation, he partook of his bottle yet again, relishing the burn that coursed it's way down his throat to settle as a lovely warmth in his belly. "Really, America. The way you speak of it is like I was some kind of… well, criminal."

America, in turn, watched him, amazed the other could keep a straight face as England spun his web of utter bullshit. Oh, he knew all about the fabulous exploits of the infamous Captain Kirkland, courtesy of his former enemies France and Spain. But he really didn't mean for the expletive to slip from his lips as a mutter partially muffled by the top of his beer bottle.

"Hey, I heard that!"

Well, shit.

That same finger, long and elegant, if a bit on the bony side, poked his cheek viciously. "It is NOT bullshit. I won't claim to be a saint, but I certainly wasn't an unreasonable fellow. In fact, I would have to say I was very pleasant indeed."

Shaking his head, America shifted so he was able to look at England better, kind of laying on his side in the chair. "Are you honestly going to sit there and try to justify all the theft, rape, and murder you committed back then?"

"Are YOU going to sit there and make a case out of past events? If so, do tell me now so I may fetch a fresh bottle from the galley. This one is looking a bit spent." He waved the empty bottle by it's neck at America, who grabbed it and threw it away while laughing heartily. It was the casual approach to the topic that made it so funny. Being as old as the Brit was seemed to have its perks, one being a conscious clear of any wrong doing.

Or, it could be that he just didn't give a fuck. America believed this over the first answer.

"Anyways, I'm guessing that's the reason why you'd never take me with you on your trips, right?" Another bottle landed in the can, a full one replacing it.

England made a face that clearly showed his disgust as America chugged down the pitiful excuse for beer he was drinking. "Mostly it was because you were too young to be parted with your land at the time." He looked out over the lake, a line of dark grey cutting though the sky on the horizon, and moving in. "But I suppose you could say a small part of it was due to the possibility of you being exposed to unnecessary violence." He made a motion towards the sky, and the clouds heading their way. "It looks as though it might rain soon."

The other watched the sky a moment, then nodded once, moving to empty the rest of his bottle over the edge of their boat. "Shit…" He muttered, the beer having worked it's way through his blood stream, leaving him feeling quite dizzy and unsteady on his feet. "Damn, how many beers did I drink?! I have to piss something awful."

"What, since we've been out here? Eight." England was busy tidying up around their table, not wanting their trash to end up overboard in the water. "I say you should switch to the good stuff. You'll end up with a beer belly, drinking all those empty calories." Finishing his task, he gave America a salute with his glass, and made his way to the door that lead inside. "I'll be below if you need me for anything, alright?"

America waved him off, chunking the empty bottle in the secured waste basket, and made his way to the railing. Seeing as there was no one else around, he shrugged, and proceeded to piss off the side of the boat.

"Yeah, time to switch to the good stuff."

AN: Now, before y'all fly at me about the whole "England isn't a rapist" bit, let me clue you in on something. Pirates were not fluffy bunnies you could cuddle and be bffs with, okay? They stole your stuff, raped your ass, then killed you if they couldn't sell you for a profit. Keep that in mind. -_-


	3. Chapter 3

_**Welp, here's chapter three, hot off the press! I'm eager to get this story out of the way so I can focus on the other two, as well as a couple of new plot bunnies that have appeared. I just hope you don't kill me at the end of this. Read to find out.**_

**Warning: Hot yaoi foreplay between two smexy countries. If yaoi isn't your cup of tea, then you need to leave the room now, because shit's about to get hawt. If you send flames, I shall play with them, and burn your manga ^^**

**DISCLAIMER IN CHAPTER 1. WANNA SEE IT? GO BACK TWO SPACES.**

**oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooo**

"Another?" England gaped down at him, not really understanding what he was asking for. "You mean… another kiss? Really?"

America couldn't stop the smile that came to his face. "Yes. I want another kiss." He propped himself up on his elbows, bringing his face closer to the one still sitting atop of him. "Please?"

Unable to resist the invitation, England dipped down to sample his mouth once again. This time, however, he lingered longer than before, moving his mouth against America's in a slow, teasing manner. Another whimper, softer than the last one, reached his ears.

That was what broke the last thread holding him back from indulging in an act he should have never considered doing with this young nation, one he had raised himself from a small child. And even though the child was technically grown (1), and all ties that declared them brothers severed long before this moment, it still seemed sinful in a sense. He had no right to taste him, to touch him this way. It was wrong, a taboo even.

But at that moment, when those eyes… those oh so very clear blue eyes gazed up into the jaded green of his own, he knew he would be unable to deny the attraction. The tension had been building between them since America's voice had begun cracking, when he was still under his domain.

That tension had reached its limit. It was time to unleash the barely concealed flames of lust they felt for each other. Oddly enough, it seemed to be the right time to do so. What better setting than the one they were in now? They were alone, no threat of anyone walking in and discovering them. The storm provided the perfect cover for their water-bound vessel. No one would be out looking for them in this weather. Not to mention the endless selection of surfaces they had at their disposal.

So there they were, both very sober by this point in time, willing and eager to explore a new level of their relationship together. And that was exactly what they were about to do. (2)

England continued to kiss America, slowly deepening it into a more passionate embrace, their lips moving together in perfect harmony. He flicked his tongue yet again across his bottom lip, tracing the shape and memorizing the feel, the taste, the sensation of it all.

His actions drew a gasp from America, his lips parting just enough so that seeking muscle could dart inside and brush against his own. The younger parted his lips further, and hesitantly returned the gesture. Suddenly, their tongues were intertwined, rubbing against each other in a battle that grew fiercer by the moment. England moved a hand to the nape of the other's neck, lacing his fingers through the soft layers of amber waves while the other moved to rest on his back. Carefully, lest their kiss be interrupted by a sudden movement, he helped him to a sitting position.

America gave in after only a minute, and let the older man dominate, submitting to his will in exchange for the glorious sensation of his tongue now plunging deep inside his mouth, the tip mapping out the contours now available. (3) A moan of appreciation was England's reward for his efforts, and he decided right then that he would never get enough of that noise, especially coming from America.

Now they both were sitting up, England still straddling his lap. He rose up higher on his knees; tipping America's head back a bit, and somehow managed to deepen the kiss even further. He launched a full-out assault on the younger male's mouth, teasing his tongue back into action to dance with his. The hand that was resting on his back moved to rest on his shoulder, those long and elegant digits kneading the tensed muscles beneath them, coaxing them to relax.

America's own hands began to seek more contact with the body pressed close to his own, both of them moving to roam England's back. He traced the outlines of surprisingly well-toned muscles, every now and then feeling the tell-tale lines of scars from battles past. His need for air was becoming greater by the second, and reluctantly he pulled away from the kiss long enough for them both to catch their breath. Their eyes met yet again, having fell closed before. England's irises had deepened to a color that was comparable to the forests of his country, the deep green clouded by a haze of lust that took his breath away. His pupils were enlarged, threatening to drag him down deep into their dark depths.

The eyes that England gazed into were just as hazy, just as ridden with desire as his own, the only difference being the color, which had deepened from the familiar sky blue he so adored to a deeper, more rich color of blue, one that you might see right before the onset of a violent storm, or perhaps the blue that followed the fading lights of twilight, right before the blackness of night took over the skies.

"My God… you're beautiful. Absolutely perfect." That shade was definitely more appealing, and he made a point of memorizing it to store away in his heart of hearts.

America, barely able to keep himself from falling under the spell of England's eyes, blushed hard, muttering a denial to the statement. England shook his head in turn denying his denial. "No, you really are. Everything about you is perfect, even your faults. It's what I love about you the best."

The other could only gape at him in shock. England actually liked, no, loved something to do with him?! "You're lying. There's no way you could love anything about me. I annoy you too much."

Leaning forward a bit, England made sure he had all of America's attention for what he was about to say. "Poppet… I love you. I think I have loved you forever… even before you were born."(4) The words were almost a whisper, the low tenor of the older male's voice washing over the younger in calming waves, wrapping him in a warmth he had long since given up on ever finding.

Tears came to America's eyes then, threatening to spill over and downwards, but not quite making it. He loved him… he loved him! Oh God, how long had he waited to hear that phrase? It seemed an eternity, a very long wait that had finally bore fruit.

Unable to stop himself, he at him with widened eyes, and returned the words. "I love you too… ever since I first met you, I loved you. Even when we faced each other in battle, even when all the odds were stacked against us ever being anything other than enemies… I loved you. (5)"

Taking a deep breath, a crystalline drop finally escaped to course down his cheek. "And I love you more now, than I ever have." His voice broke as he spoke, his whole body trembling with the emotions he felt.

It was too much for England to take. With a strangled cry, he seized the hair under the hand still entwined in America's hair in a fierce grip, and crashed their lips back together, their embrace now more heated, each responding to the other with a desperation that only time could bring.

Somehow, America found himself lying back on the floor again, one of England's legs shifting so that he could press a knee into the bulge that had appeared in his jeans, and rub against it in an unbearably teasing manner. The action brought a ragged cry of his own out, the mouth pressed to his own drinking in the sound eagerly. His hips thrust downward, eager for more friction against his aching need. England growled in his throat in response, granting his unspoken wish and grinding against his member with more pressure. That drew yet another cry from him.

Finally, England departed from his lips, blazing a hot trail from his mouth to his jaw, then down the smooth curve of his neck. Reaching his collar bone, he bit and suckled, making his mark on him. His fingers moved to the buttons of America's shirt, quickly undoing them. Pushing the cloth aside, he leaned back to feast his eyes on the smooth, tanned skin hidden only moments before. His eyes greedily took in the well-defined muscles of his chest and abdomen. His nipples, dark pink and hardened by the cooler air around them invited him to slide down somewhat, and dip his head low to seize one in his questing lips. Once again, America let out an approving sound, his breath coming in harsher pants. Putting his tongue to work some more, he flicked the pert nub back and forth in quick motions that set the other to squirming at the sensation.

"E-England! Oh God..." America was watching him work the whole time, his head crooked downwards to view what was to him an erotic sight that had only existed in his mind before.

The British man hummed a response, the vibration sending sparks of pure pleasure throughout his whole body. His head snapped back violently at the same time his back arched, desperately seeking more of his mouth on him.

Not one to disappoint, England clamped his mouth down around him and sucked, hard. He moved his hand to the neglected twin, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger gently and rolling it. America's hands found their way into his hair, his fingers rubbing his scalp and tugging on his hair alternatively.

Feeling as though he had abused the nipple enough, he parted from it with a wet kiss, making his way across his chest to the other, biting and licking as he went. He left several marks on his way, to match the one on his neck. Finally, he made it to the other, and removed his hand to quickly replace it with his mouth, tending to it the same way he had tended the other.

This had America squirming even more. His entire body felt flushed, every nerve and cell alive with prickling energy. The engorged member still encased in his pants strained against the material, torturing him every time he shifted beneath England. He yearned to return the attention being paid to his person, his fingers moving restlessly through the other's hair showing his agitation. He cast his eyes downwards yet again when he felt England move away from his chest, his teeth worrying his bottom lip as he felt that wicked tongue dance across his ribcage, sharp teeth coming into play to leave more marks on his person. The moans and broken pleas for more fell from his lips in a constant chant, the tone of his voice high with need. More, he wanted more. Yet as much as he wanted to scream at him to skip the foreplay and go for the main prize, he held his tongue.

England had reached his navel at this point, dipping his tongue inside the indention of his belly button, earning him what sounded like a cross between a moan and a giggle. He couldn't help but grin at that. It had sounded so cute. So, he did it again, causing the same reaction. But not wanting to waste time on that, his own engorged cock making itself known quite painfully, he moved on lower, lapping his tongue across the firm planes of his lower abdomen, having to finally pause when he reached the top of his jeans. Annoyed by this, he bit at the button and growled. How dare his fucking pants block him from what he was positive would be a glorious view.

He paused when he heard a snicker from somewhere above his head. Lifting his head, his gaze traveled up the body he had just explored, admiring the dark color of the marks he had left scattered all across it, finally meeting that deep blue of America's eyes once more. He arched an eyebrow at the grin stretching his kiss-swollen lips. "And just what are you laughing at?"

America snickered again. "I dunno. I guess you kind of reminded me of a dog just then. One being denied its bone or something."

The eyebrow arched even higher towards England's hairline. "Ah, but I am being denied a bone of sorts." Pulling himself up, he sat back on America's thighs, and ran his hand across his bared flesh. "And I will not be denied that which I want, love." His eyes traveled across the room, and it clicked in his head that perhaps they were not in the best place to continue. Looking back down at him, he smirked, slowly rising to his feet. "I do believe we should move this elsewhere… perhaps the bed?"

All America had eyes for that moment was the large bulge that was quite visible in the man's pants. Blinking owlishly, he nodded after a moment and made to get to his feet. But when he tried to rest his weight on his left foot, a sharp burning pain shot up his leg, making him yelp in shock.

"Ah man, what the hell?!" Looking down, he saw that his ankle had swelled out, nearly three times its normal size.

England, being startled by the pained sound the other had made, followed his gaze and hissed when he saw it. "Oooh, you must have done that when you took that trip over the chair."(6)

America nodded, holding his foot off the floor. Dammit, why in the hell did this have to happen, especially when they were so close to having what would probably be the most mind-blowing sex anyone had ever had in the history of the world?!

But it seemed as though his soon-to-be lover could read his mind. Stepping forward so he was pressed up against him, he slid his hands up to rest on the other's hips in a possessive hold. That smirk turned downright evil. "Don't worry about that for now. It's not like I'll be fucking you standing up."

The other let out a little laugh at that statement. "I-I guess so, ha ha ha."

England's hands slid around to grab at his ass, cupping each cheek in his hands and giving them a tight squeeze, drawing a squeak from the other. Green eyes roamed over him, giving him the impression that if their owner was inclined to, he would eat him alive. "Now, shall we move this into the other room? I find myself growing rather impatient. This dog…" He emphasized the last word with a thrust of his groin against the others. "… Grows eager for his bone."

The younger male whimpered at the contact, thrusting back against the hardness pressed against his own, grinding slightly. He could only nod in response, another hum of approval coming from his aggressor.

Releasing his hold on America's ass, England moved to slide his arm around his back, motioning for him to drape his arm across his shoulders. Moving slowly, he helped the injured one as they made their way towards the bedroom that housed their bunks.

They were half way to their destination when the bunk beds crossed America's mind. They were a nice size, sure, but not nearly wide enough for two, not to mention the low level of the bunk above his own. (7)

"Hey, uhm, are you sure we should go to the bedroom?" England paused, giving him a questioning look. "Well, I mean, is there enough room for us to… well, you know." He blushed deeply, sliding his gaze away from the other to focus on a spot on the wall.

England thought about it, and realized that he had a point. Luckily for them, they were standing in the middle of what served as the living room, which just happened to have a very nice rug on the floor. He was inspired by that rug. "I have an idea. Come, I'll help you to the couch."

They made their way over to it, where America sat down with an awkward flump. "What are you going to do?"

The other grinned. "You'll see. We'll have plenty of room to maneuver, don't you worry." Winking at the younger one, which brought another blush to his cheeks, he rushed off to the bedroom to gather what he needed.

America, meanwhile, took a moment to think over what was happening. They were doing this. They were really going to have sex… or fuck… or make love, whatever you wanted to call it. He fidgeted, biting at his lip and fiddling with his thumbs nervously. It hadn't been that long ago that he had lost his virginity. And it wasn't like he had made a point of being very active sexually. The late sixties had been a bit busy, and the mid-seventies as well.(8) So obviously, he would be no comparison to England, who had been around a hell of a lot longer than he had, and would have more experience.

It was a gloomy face he was greeted with when England returned from his task, carrying a pile of blankets and pillows. Setting them down next to America, he took the seat opposite. "America? What's wrong?"

The other continued to chew his lower lip, his face now beet red. He fought against and failed to meet the other's eyes, choosing to keep looking at his hands resting in his lap. "W-Well, I was thinking…"

When he didn't elaborate further, England nudged him gently with an elbow to his arm to prompt him. "Yes? About what, love?" He smiled to encourage him, beginning to worry that he was having second thoughts.

"Uhm… I…. uhh…" Taking a deep breath, he let it all out in a rush. "ImscaredIwontmeetyourexpectationswhenwedoitbecaus eIdonthaveasmuchexperienceasyouand-"

England cut him off with a flick of his hand, halting the flow of babble. "America. Stop it." He reached up and cupped his face in his hands, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the others, twinkling eyes meeting a hopeful look. "I don't care if you aren't as… eh, worldly, as I am. The point is that we both enjoy it, and find pleasure in each other's arms. Okay?"

When he didn't answer him at first he leaned in and kissed him with a smile on his lips. "Okay?"

After digesting what he had said, America laughed a bit, nodding his head. "Right."

Nodding as well, he placed another kiss on his lips, short, but sweet and full of affection, before rising to continue his work. America watched him, a smile of his own playing on his features as England made them what looked to be a very comfortable and cozy looking love nest on the rug.(9)

Finishing off his creation with one last fluff of a pillow, England stood back to admire his handiwork. He gestured to it, and gave America an expectant look. "Well? What do you think?"

America giggled nervously, a sound that made him turn red yet again. Damn, he wasn't a girl! What was with all the weird noises he was making anyway? "It looks good… yeah…"

Stepping over to him, England gazed down at him that smirk coming back into play. With a fluid motion of his arms, he rid himself of his pull-over, tossing it onto the seat of the recliner. He pointed at America's shirt. "Off with it." He busied himself with relieving himself of his sock and belt while the other slid the shirt off, letting it fall behind him onto the couch.

After sending his things to join his own shirt, England then looked down, his smirk intensifying, his entire continence taking on that of a predator about to have at his prey once again. "The pants. Lose them. Now."

America swallowed loudly. Oh boy, what had he got himself into now? **oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooooooooo**

**AN: It's definitely looking like 5 chapters at this point. And if I get enough reviews, I might throw in an Omake just to show my appreciation for your attention to my work.**

**So, review review review please ORZ **

**oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooooooooo**

_Okay, so here are a few notes for you to apply to where the numbers are in the chapter. You don't need to read them to get info for the chapter. It's just more of an observational thing, and me sharing my personal views and opinions. I apologize for this. But I like to see inside an author/authoresses mind. So this would be for those who like to as well._

Even though America's appearance is that of a boy in his late teens, and his literal age is in centuries, he is still a child at heart.

I strongly believe in the sexual tension head canon that a lot of people in the fandom support. It makes sense to me, okay?

Why is America uke? Because the authoress finds immense pleasure in her home country taking up the ass. Plus uke America is hawt. No regrets people.

Personal Head canon: England has held off any inclination to be in a serious relationship with another nation because ever since he was young, he has felt that he would one day find someone who was made perfect for him. He felt this because of his magical abilities lending to him a clairvoyance of sorts.

We all know Little America loved his Iggy, no doubt. It is a personal head canon of mine that his love never went away, just evolved.

This is something that happened to me a few months back. I thought I was Batman (I totally am batman dammit), and took a flying leap over my son's rocking chair while we were playing tag in the house, but came down wrong on my foot and sprung it. I was on crutches for two weeks afterwards.

England ALWAYS gets top bunk. Because he is the oldest and that is a generally held tradition with a lot of families I know. It's not really fair, but life's not fair, suck it up XD

The high level of sexual encounters would have been due to a combination of the whole love and peace thing (60's), the people falling in love with their country again as the bicentennial year came (70's), and heavy drug use keeping any inhibitions out of mind (both: pot and hallucinogens in the 60's; more pot and hallucinogens, as well as moderate cocaine use in the 70's) *you might get a fic about these times in America's life… maybe ^_~)

I see England as the type who is very improvisational, being able to adapt to a situation at the drop of a hat. Plus, he's probably had to do something like it before. He didn't earn his special title for nothing, right folks?


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN: Welp, here it is. The lemon I've given myself gray hairs over. Yup. *hangs head in shame* I failed at this. You might be of a different opinion, though. I have always had trouble writing smut, so I really hope I please with this chapter. There is much love here. Any suggestions or criticisms are welcome. Like I said before, this is practice for my long chapter story, so I'll be writing more smut again, and very soon at that. So, sit back and enjoy!**_

**DISCLAIMER: *sighs and points towards chapter one***

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS MALE/MALE SMEX! U DON'T WANT? WHY U HERE?!**

**Oh, and I want you guys to do me a favor. I recently came across an excellent story called Unconventional Love. It is written by ****Deikus-Is-Hellbound, and is in desperate need of some reads and reviews. They really need the encouragement to continue on with this story, and I would hate to see it go the way of so many awesome stories and end up abandoned or unfinished. Please, go and take a look, it's worth it X3**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- o-o

Taking a deep breath to help settle his nerves, America began removing his jeans. After working the snap and zipper, he bowed his back upwards, lifting his ass slightly to slide them down to his thighs, making an on-the-spot decision to hook his thumbs in his boxers as well.

England, his hands working on his own pants, couldn't tear his gaze away. He had wondered, for two centuries now, just what the boy had hidden under his clothes, especially his bottoms. Shivers of anticipation rushed through him as he watched the denim material slide down curved hips, and then lower to reveal long legs that were just as tan and firm looking as the rest of him.

He found himself fighting the animalistic urge to pounce on the other and just fuck him flat out. Did he even know how sexy he was? Contrary to popular belief, America didn't seem to have an ounce of fat on him, except for his cheeks that seemed as though they would continue to maintain their rounded appearance for awhile to come. His choice of attire apparently lent to the image of a more stout body.

A low groan rumbled through his chest, his mind already wrapping around and more than content with the future prospect of those legs, now on full display for his viewing pleasure, being wrapped around him as he fucked the boy into oblivion. The mental imagery did nothing to help his already painfully swollen cock.

His gaze then traveled upwards, finally landing on the main prize. Hmm, very nice. The erect member was as long as his own, the girth not as ample but still enough that made him silently thank God that he wasn't going to be on bottom for their romp in the sheets this round. The mushroomed head was an angry red that looked quite uncomfortable. Precum had been smeared across the tip as the other had removed his clothes, the temptation to go down on him and lick it off almost sending him over the edge yet again. Damn, they had to move this along, else he ruin the moment.

Meanwhile, America had carefully worked his jeans and boxers off over his ankle (thank the heavens he was wearing an old pair of bell bottoms from a couple years back), then the other, setting them on the couch with his shirt. He looked up to see what England was doing, only to freeze. Geez, did he HAVE to leer at him like that? It was embarrassing!

Leaning back against the cushions, he watched him trace over his newly exposed skin with his eyes, feeling as though his gaze was physically touching him. However, when England's eyes reached his cock, he froze. Feelings of inadequacy flooded his mind, but they were quickly shoved into the bottom drawer of his mind's filing cabinet, the key turned and flung away. It would do no good to have the mood ruined by anymore of his childish musings.

Instead, he focused on HOW he was looking at him, noting the slow movement of his tongue licking his lips absently, his eyes revealing a primal hunger. He took that as a good sign that he met the older one's approval, feeling relieved but flushing with embarrassment for what seemed to be the thousandth time that night at the same time as his imagination took flight and assaulted him with images of that tongue licking him instead. Oh yeah, that was a nice image. He couldn't hold back the keening whine that he made in response.

That sound brought England back to the present, his eyes snapping upwards to meet the glowing face of the other. Well well, it looked like his mind wasn't the only one in the gutter. "I wonder what it is you're thinking to make you look so flustered."

America's daydreams were interrupted by the question, his eyes refocusing on England. Wow, he had forgotten that he was sitting in front of him, completely naked and on display. He tried to reply, the words coming as choked sounds. His eyes were glued to his lips, brain telling him that he wanted… no, NEEDED them wrapped around his dick. He watched them move as England spoke again, this time not really hearing what he said.

"America… America! Are you still with me, love?"

When he didn't respond, he chuckled and shook his head. Well, whatever it was he was thinking about, it had to be good to put that look of utter want on his face. But he wanted his attention on him, not on the thoughts floating through his errant mind. So he leaned over, and lowered himself so they were eye-to-eye.

That seemed to bring America back to the land of the living, a gasp of surprise leaving him when he realized just how close he had moved to him.

"Are you ready to continue?"

"Uh… R-Right! I mean, yeah, I'm ready." Jeebus did he have to sound so desperate? But England didn't seem to mind that. In fact, America was taken back by the encouraging grin the other gave him.

England rose back to a standing position, and offered him a hand. "Well then, let's move this to the rug, shall we?"

Nodding, America took the offered hand and stood, careful not to rest weight on his injured ankle. Once again wrapping an arm around him, they made their way to the bed. England kept a firm grip on his shoulders as the young one eased himself down onto the blankets. Once fully seated, he slid up to the pillows, lying back and resting his head on one, eyes glued to the other who was taking the time to finish undressing.

It only took a moment for England to pull off his already undone slacks and boxers, tossing them into the chair too. A sigh of relief left him as his cock was finally released from its too-tight prison, the cooler air feeling delicious on the fevered flesh. Once he was sure that all was in order with a glance around the room, he turned and lowered himself to their nest, crawling up and positioning himself between America's legs once more.

While he had been undressing, it had been America's turn to gawk, his eyes taking in wiry muscled legs, the scars found there looking sort like a roadmap of the elder's history, bared for him to roam at his leisure. When he made it to England's own member, his eyes widened in an almost comical manner. He really hoped he would be well-prepped for taking it inside himself.

Yeah, he knew he was going to be receiving, especially since it was their first time together. Maybe England would let him have a turn at topping in the future, if this thing between them went anywhere, but for the time being he was going to enjoy being fucked by the older nation.

He spread his legs wider, careful of how he laid his foot, baring himself to the fullest. No more screwing around. He was ready for some action! His own dick felt like it was about to bust from the extreme pressure against the straining skin. It took all of his self-restraint to not flat out beg the other to just fuck him right there and then, and skip anymore foreplay.

England groaned in appreciation as the boy spread himself, loving the image he made sprawled on the pillows and blankets beneath them. "Oh yes, very nice, very nice indeed." He raised a hand to gently grasp America's weeping cock, his thumb pressing against the slick head and rubbing in small circles.

America, caught off guard by the sudden rush of sensation from the contact, let loose a shout, shooting up off the pillows to a sitting position. His eyes were glued to the hand now working his dick over. God, it felt so damn good. "A-Arthur! Oh dear God…" The friction against his cock was amazing! His head fell back, his breath coming in shallow bursts.

Smirking, England grasped the base with the other hand, slowly pumping the turgid flesh in tune with his thumb's movements. "Yes, that feels nice, doesn't it?" He watched his hands at work, sliding the one at the top up higher so he could stroke more of his shaft. He slid his thumb along the head, rubbing at the slit slick with a now steady leak of precum. Curiosity overwhelming him, he moved the hand away, stroking him with the other while bringing it to his lips. He popped his thumb in his mouth, sucking away the musky flavor of his essence, closing his eyes and shuddering at the taste, a bolt of pure fire shooting into his lower regions.

The younger man gaped at the sight of his partner sucking his precum off his thumb, his breath coming in harsher pants when the hand working his cock tightened its grip and moved faster, the hot coil that had been tightening in the pit of his stomach from the start slowly building pressure. His mouth snapped shut, jaw clinching at the increase in speed.

Wanting England to feel what he was feeling, he reached out a hand while balancing his weight on the other, taking a moment to focus himself before wrapping it around the other's neglected shaft, and began stroking him with a firm grip. England gasped in response. Struggling to concentrate when every move made by the other was driving him closer to release by the minute, he managed to match the rhythm set by the other, their hands now moving in tandem.

It was a glorious sight to behold. There they sat, England between America's legs, both sitting up, both jacking each other off. Their eyes met, and without really thinking about it, their mouths crashed together in a frenzy of fevered kisses, neither one able to form a coherent phrase. Their hands moved faster, one's grip tightening in response to the others. Their free hands laced into the other's hair, pulling each other closer as their tongues intertwined, the wet muscles dancing together, taking turns between their mouths.

The only sounds in the room were the steady rainfall outside, the radio now playing something by one of England's bands, Pink Floyd if America's hearing was correct, and the two of them. It was perfect.

Suddenly, England pulled back, and grasped America's wrist, pulling his hand away from his member, taking his from the others as well. The other was startled by his sudden withdrawal, and quickly brought his hand to rest on his chest. Had he done something wrong?

England took a shuddering breath, willing himself to calm down lest he come now. He wanted to come inside him, not like this. He looked at America, who was gazing back with a mix of hurt and confusion. He was quick to reassure him. "We don't want to ruin the best part, do we?"

America blushed, and nodded, understanding what the deal was. "R-Right…" He eased himself back down to lie on the pillows, and looked up at him expectantly. "Well… I'm ready when you are."

Nodding, England leaned over and fished under the blankets, pulling out a bottle of massage oil. He hadn't considered them being in this position, so he hadn't thought to pack lube. But the oil would work just as well.

The younger one eyed the bottle as England unscrewed the cap and poured some out in his palm. He knew what was coming next, but still couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. He had been a bottom in the past, but this situation was entirely different. The scent of something like vanilla and lavender reached his nose, which struck him as funny for some reason. He giggled, once again berating himself in his head for sounding like a chick.

England looked down at him with an arched eyebrow as he coated his fingers in the oil. "What's so funny?"

"My ass is going to smell like Lavender, hee hee."

That made him snort, and shake his head. "My God, only you would be thinking about something like that." Fingers slicked, he spread the remaining oil on his cock, while the fingers moved down to America's entrance. One digit began the assault, rubbing the puckered hole in small circles. It quivered beneath his touch, giving way to let him slip inside him, slowly penetrating him until it was buried to the second knuckle. He watched the other's face for any sign of pain or discomfort.

America shivered as his passage was invaded, careful to keep his muscles relaxed. A soft sound escaped his lips when England began moving the finger in and out with slow, steady movements. The slight burn of penetration, along with the pressure inside him, mixed to create a pleasing sensation that had him mewling and moaning in a matter of moments.

Pleased with his reaction, the other slipped a second finger inside. He shivered himself, loving the warm, wet heat surrounding him. Carefully, he began to scissor his fingers, stretching them wide to make sure he was loosened up enough to accommodate his girth. The boy was tight! Obviously he didn't act the submissive that often. "How are you doing, love? Any pain?"

Although there was a bit of discomfort, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. "No, I'm fine." He was about to say more when England, being the sneaky person he was, slipped a third finger within him, and hit that small bump that had him seeing stars in moments.

"Aah! A-Arthur!" He rocked his hips upwards, trying to drive his finger into that sweet spot once again. "More… please, I want more!"

Smirking, England complied, once again flicking against his prostate, making his hips jerk in response. "Like that?"

America nodded eagerly, attempting to fuck himself on his fingers. His cock throbbed with every pump of his heart, needing more attention. "Yes, oh fuck yes!" However, he was denied any more of that wonderful feeling for the moment, England's focus going back to stretching his hole. He whined, tears of frustration pooling in the corner of his eyes. "Please, Arthur, please give me more!"

Satisfied that he was fully prepped, England removed his fingers from within him, and shifted his position. He lifted America's legs, pushing them up and back so his knees were bent, and his thighs were spread wide open. Lining himself up with his entrance, he paused long enough to gaze down at him. "You sure you're ready for this?"

"YES, FUCK ME ALREADY!"

He growled, pressing himself to his entrance, and without any hesitation slid himself inside, drawing a cry of surprise from the other. He moved quickly, encasing himself within his passage to the hilt. "God damn! It's still so tight…" He struggled to breath, the pressure around his cock coupled with the heat and slickness of the oil making it so hard to not just start plowing him into the floor. He felt wonderful wrapped around him.

America struggled between pulling away and thrusting his hips forward. He was stretched to the max, and it was amazing! He embraced the pain of his impalement, doing everything he could to stay still. Why wasn't he moving yet?! "Arthur, for the love of God, I'm not made out of glass! Go!"

Green eyes met with blue once again. "Alright then, if you're ready…" He pulled out to the head of his member, then thrusted none too gently back inside him. He set a rough, but slow pace. His head fell back, air still hard to draw in as he was bombarded by exquisite pleasure.

America in turn was meeting him thrust for thrust. "Good… fuck, so good…" His hands twisted in the covers beneath him, lips parted for air, body flushed and covered with more sweat. His legs fell out of England's grasp and wrapped around his waist, his heels digging into his ass to egg him on. "Harder, please, fuck me harder!"

He complied, shifting a bit more and thrusting with more vigor, his aim true as the head of his cock struck his prostate.

"Yes yes yes…" America chanted, alternating between that and the other's name. He would have never thought it could be this good. He rocked his hips harder, seeming to literally throw himself onto the hard, thick cock filling him again and again, the sparks of pure pleasure traveling down and up into the tips of his fingers and toes, numbing his mind and driving coherent thought out the window.

England gasped, surprised by the boy's actions. The sudden need to dominate the body beneath him overwhelmed his already overloading brain. He sped up his thrusts, meeting him with deep, harsh thrusts of his own, ramming himself as far inside of him as he could.

Their coupling was intense, the friction and the heat driving them both closer to the edge, and fast. Bending down, he smashed his lips into America's once more, teeth clicking together as lips parted and sucked, tongues moving together as eagerly as their hips against each others. Using one hand to hold the younger's head still while he tongue-fucked his mouth, he snaked the other around to grasp at his openly leaking shaft, pumping it in time with his hips.

England's tongue, hand, and cock working together were too much for America to take. His orgasm slammed through him, bringing him back off the blankets with a scream of the other's name. His back arched violently, slamming his chest against the others, his inner muscles clamping down on the member still pounding away inside him, which in turn brought England over the edge with him, the elder roaring "ALFRED!" at the top of his lungs.

Together, they rode out their climax, mouths parted and gasping, and the metallic taste of blood on their tongues from their abused and much bruised lips. As England's cock filled him with his seed, his own member was shooting out thick ropes of cum, the pearly liquid splashing against their stomachs and coating the hand that was steadily milking his slowly wilting member.

Once his orgasm tapered off, England managed to roll himself to the side before he collapsed, and fell to the blankets beside America. His now limp dick slipped out of him, leaving only a slow trickle of his essence in its wake. Together, they lay still, each trying to catch their breath. The warm and buzzing feeling that comes after awesome sex fell over them, their minds blank for the moment.

After a few minutes, they rolled simultaneously to gaze at each other with sleepy eyes filled with love and contentment.

"Hey, Arthur?"

England raised his hand to pet that head of hair he loved so much. "Hmm?"

"We gonna try for round two?"

The elder chuckled, admiring his enthusiasm. "No, love." He yawned and stretched, then reached out lazily until he found a blanket to pull over them. "But I do believe a nap is in order. All the alcohol is out of my system, and I'm feeling sleepy as all hell for it."

America nodded, and snuggled up against him, resting his head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his torso. "Yeah, I could use one too."

"Mmm.." England was already dozing off himself, the hand in his hair slowing its petting.

The other chuckled, then let himself drift off too.

"I love you, England."

"Mmm, ditto."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- o-o

_**AN: One thing to note about this chapter is the lack of oral. This is because I don't think they would give oral when being together for the first time. HOWEVER… remember the Omake I mentioned? Well, give me some good reviews, and when I post chapter 5, I'll let ya know if I'm going to do one or not. I'll put the mouth action in it. And so far, with the reviews I've already received, the chances of one are looking pretty good. Until next time, babus!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**_I know this chapter is very late, and I apologize. I have been writing and rewriting it for days. I'd get started, fall into a doze while typing, and end up with a page of pure nonsense. Finally, I got a good night's sleep, and have consumed many caffeinated beverages, so I could get this to you. So without further ado, here's the last chapter of Butt Piratin'! _**

**Disclaimer: *loads shotgun* I dare you. Say somethin', srsly.**

* * *

America was the first to wake the next morning. As the fog of sleep left his mind, he became aware of three things. One, he hadn't felt this relaxed in years! Two, he had to piss like a Russian racehorse. And three, he was wrapped around something with a heartbeat, if the steady thumping in his ear was real and not just a leftover of some dream.

Lifting his head slightly, he gazed up to find the still-sleeping face of who was now his boyfriend, hopefully. He had poured his heart out to him after all… and he returned the feelings too. He grinned then, realizing just what had been said the night before. He loved him! He really fucking loved him! But, with the after effects of their all-day drinking binge pounding in his head, along with a dull throbbing in his lower back, he decided that a little more sleep was in order. His brain just wasn't up to processing the overload of information at the moment.

He buried his face deeper into the warmth of England's chest, doing his best to return to dreamland. But the call of nature was making itself known. Damn, he had to piss, bad!

Groaning, he relinquished his death grip on the other, sitting up to stretch only to yelp in shock as a bolt of pure agony struck his lower back. Carefully, he laid back down so he didn't feel it again, and proceeded to poke the chest he had been snuggled up to a minute before.

"Arthur… Arthuuur~ Wakey wakey…"

A mumbled "lemme 'lone git" was the only response he got for his efforts.

He pouted, and poked him with more force, this time earning a swat to his hand, followed by a sleepy glare. He grinned at the annoyed face, the glare deepening. "Good morning sunshine!"

England, who wanted nothing more than to continue sleeping, wondered to himself if perhaps he could sink the other to the bottom of Lake Huron without anyone missing him. "HOW can you be so damn cheerful first thing of a morning?" He sat up, and stretched, sighing with pleasure as his spine popped, his very high alcohol tolerance killing any chance of a hangover, unlike poor America. "Let me guess, you need to get up, but if you move you're back hurts."

America only nodded, a grimace on his face as his back and bladder fought over which would make him the most miserable.

Wincing with sympathy knowing all too well what he was going through, England got up and went to the bathroom, digging around in the medicine cabinet until he came across a bottle of aspirin. He took the tablets and a glass of water back to the other, who took both with a grateful "thanks".

England grabbed his boxers from the armchair and slipped them on. "I think a hot drink is in order." He made his way to the kitchen area, calling out to the other. "You want coffee, right?"

"Yes, please!" America stretched carefully, hissing as pain shot through him once again. Suddenly, he remembered his ankle. Lifting the blanket, he saw that it looked to be healing already, thank the lord. "Good thing I'm a nation, ha ha!"

"What was that, love?"

"Oh, my ankle is already mending. Still hurts though." He tried to rotate his foot; nodding when he felt satisfied he could walk on it. "I'ma hit the head. If you get a minute, would you mind checking the forecast?"

"No problem. Be careful though! You could injure your foot again if you get dizzy." He sat the kettle on the stove to boil water for his tea, the coffeemaker already gurgling away as it brewed. England made his way to the control room and cut on the weather radio, and switched it on. The forecast was a grim one, to say the least. They were calling for rain the rest of the week. Heavy storms moving across the Great Lakes region, with craft advisories. They would have to head inland.

Frowning, he made his way back to the living room. Alfred had managed to limp his way to the toilet and make his way back to their cozy little nest. He was sitting, with the blanket wrapped around him in the middle. He was given a smile, one that was almost shy. Thoughts of the night before began to flood his mind, and he returned the smile with one of his own before remembering the message from the radio.

"Things don't look too good, love. We have to head to shore. Bad weather is heading this way." He winced inwardly as the other's face fell, obviously disappointed. "Since we're closer to your brother's place, why don't we head northward, and crash at his house for the rest of our vacation? I'm sure he wouldn't mind us coming over."

That perked the American up considerably. "Alright! Then I can tell Mattie all about our trip!"

England gave him a look, but shrugged as he began picking up their mess. 'They are twins, so I suppose it's alright.' He waved a hand at America. "You, go and take a shower. It'll help to ease any discomfort you're feeling."

Reluctantly, the boy got up, wrapping the sheet around his middle as he did so, earning him a snort for his efforts. Really, after last night such modesty was unnecessary. But America had always been a bit of a prude.

He'd fix that for good, or his name wasn't the "Erotic Ambassador".

Whole England went to make them some toast to go with their coffee and tea, America made it to the bathroom, and finally emptied his bladder, swearing he heard something in his head sigh with thanks. He took a cool shower, the water helping to wash away all the crappiness he felt. The aspirin worked wonders too.

After 10 minutes, America reemerged wearing an old t-shirt and jeans, his hair damp and fluffy from the rough towel drying it had received. He made his way to the kitchen, eager for his coffee. As soon as he turned the corner, he was met by a mug.

The other shook his head as the cup was hastily taken, its contents gone in three large gulps, then returned for more. "I honestly don't think you tasted a drop of that."

"Nope!"

The cup was offered again with an eye roll. "This time sip it! It's hot."

"Yes, mother~" America grinned cheekily and made a show out of taking light, dainty sips. "I do say sir, this is quite the pleasant morning repast, if I do say so myself."

England swatted at him, scowling. "Don't mock my language, you brat!"

A tongue poked out at him in retaliation. "It's my language too, you know. You don't own it." A deadpanned look was shown to him. "What, you don't! Just because it's named after you doesn't mean you can possess it."

"I would have you know that I do indeed own the English language. I helped in its evolution, not to mention that I was one of the first people to write a tome using the modern alphabet." Looking smug at the wide eyes of the other, England took a small drink of his tea, savoring the mellow, slightly bitter bite as its warmth relaxed and soothed him. "How do you think it ended up bearing my name to start with, hmm?"

Alfred puffed up his cheeks, and poked out his lower lip in a pout. "Why are you so mean to meee?" The whine made the other's eye twitch. "Stop taking things so seriously, sheesh!"

He wasn't prepared for the mouth that was suddenly kissing him, teeth nipping at the poked out lip. "Hush up, you. I'll stop being mean when you stop being such a brat."

"HEY!"

"I said hush." He was kissed again, eliciting a small moan from him in response as he kissed back carefully. Tongues met and entwined the combined flavors of coffee and tea quite pleasant to the both of them.

Things could have gone farther, but a distant rumble reminded them that they had to put the brakes on so they could get off the water. England pressed one final kiss to his lips, and then retreated to knock back the rest of his tea. "I'm heading to the shower; you go and contact your brother. We need to get a move on before the weather worsens."

They put their cups in the sink, and parted ways. America headed to the control room and contacted the patrol station on the Canadian side of Huron, having them to patch him through the phone to his brother's number.

* * *

~at Canada's house~

"Looks like rough weather is heading this way, Kumayuma." Canada stood in his front yard watching the sky. The western horizon was dark with them. Sighing, he made his way inside, picking up his bear as he passed him. He had plans to go fishing, but the storm was going to prevent that. And it didn't sit too well with him either. It wasn't often he got time off, and now Mother Nature was going to be a bitch and go on the rag.

Just as he made it inside, the phone rang. Immediately he glared at it. Who the hell was calling him before 8 am?! "I swear to Maple if that is my boss, I'm going to shove a hockey stick up his ass." He snatched the receiver off its base, and answered. "Yeees?"

"Mattie! What's up, bro?"

Oh God, it was someone even worse. "What Alfred?"

"Hey, got a favor to ask you, dude."

Kumajiro nipped his arm, reminding him that he was currently squeezing the life out of him. He sat the bear on the floor, and sighed. "Al, the last time you asked me to do a favor for you, I ended up in one of your federal courts, dressed like a douche, having to explain why a transfer truck full of Coors beer was in Virginia!"

He could clearly see the pout on the other's face in his mind. "Aww, we had fun though! Besides, I was the one driving the truck! You got to drive the Trans Am, AND out fox the police."

Canada clenched his jaw, a vein in his forehead throbbing. "Yeah, like I really enjoyed being chased by a whole posse of redneck deputies led by a rabid sheriff!"

"You loved it. Admit it."

He growled. "IF I showed any signs of enjoying it, it was only because I was stoned out of my mind. Hell, we both were!"

"Yeah… those were good times… good times."

He head a sigh of satisfaction on the other end, and face planted the wall in frustration. "What do you want, Alfred?!"

There was a pause. "Oh, OH! Shit, uh, well you see, I kind of need to bring my boat to shore, and I'm on your side of Huron, so…"

"Wait, you're out on the lake in THIS weather?!" He threw his hand in the air. "Why the fuck are you on Lake Huron?!"

"Weeell, Iggy and I came out for our vacation to fish and shoot the shit, and the weather decided to take a bad turn. So, we were wondering if we could come over to your house and stay there for the rest of the week."

"Oh Alfred, you know you're always welcome at my house, Arthur too!" It didn't matter how annoyed he got with his brother, Canada kept his door open for him and their family at all times. "Hurry up and get to shore. I'll drive down to pick you guys up."

"Thanks Mattie. You're awesome!" That made him grin. Well, maybe his day was going to be good after all. They could kick back, drink some beer, and catch up on things.

"Besides, I got something to tell you you're not going to believe!"

Oh really? "What? Tell me now, in case I need to prepare."

"Oh no, I'm waiting until we meet up. Open airwaves and all that, you know?"

"Ah, I see. Well, I'll get off so you can get going. See you later."

"Later, bro."

He hung up the phone, and hummed in thought. If he was with Arthur, then he wouldn't be up to anything he shouldn't be. The older male had the unique ability to keep the other under control and out of mischief. Shrugging, he headed upstairs to prepare two of his guest rooms, letting his mind wander.

* * *

~*later on, around noon, on the Canada side of Lake Huron*~

Two men rushed up the dock, the sky threatening to drop at any time, carrying their luggage to a van waiting in the parking lot of the lake port. Standing beside it waving was Canada, grinning when America called out a cheerful greeting along with England. They held off talking in favor of loading their luggage up and jumping inside the vehicle, a light rain beginning to fall as the pulled out of the parking lot.

England sat up front in the passenger seat, and studied the inner décor. "Uhm, Matthew, darling…"

"The sixties. That's all I'm saying." Matthew gave him a sheepish look as the older male flicked a crystal charm hanging from the rear-view mirror.

America was sprawled out in the backseat, petting the silver fur upholstery on the seats. "Man, we had some good times in this bad boy!" He leaned forward and rested his chin on the corner of his brother's seat. "Remember Woodstock? It was raining there just like it is now."

England arched an eyebrow sharply. "What the bloody hell were you two doing at Woodstock?!" Sometimes he was glad he'd been busy back home in London. He had resisted and defeated the counterculture's attempts to rope him in… although if one were to go and peek in his wardrobe they would find some questionable clothing from the era, including a crushed red velvet suit he'd had tailored to resemble his old attire from his days as a pirate.

The twins gave each other knowing looks, then turned to England and said in unison, "We went for the music."

"Yeah, right."

They grinned at each other, and all three busted out laughing.

"So… Alfred… care to tell me what the big secret is?" Canada cast a glance at his brother, shocked to see the deep blush on his face. Looking over to England, he could see a blush on his face as well. "What? What's going on?"

England sputtered. "W-Well, uhm... you see, uh… that is…"

"Yeah, ha ha… it's kind of an interesting story…"

"We were quite drunk, actually…"

"And you know how we are about playing games…"

Canada listened to them stumble over their words, his mouth falling open in shock when his mind clicked to a conclusion. "Oh Maple…"

Both England and America took his look as one of horror, America being the one more affected. "N-Now Mattie, it's not as bad as it seems, r-really!"

England nodded. "We were in total agreement."

"And we confessed to each other… which is a HUGE load off my back, needless to say."

"Mine as well. I don't know how much longer I would have lasted under the pressure, to be honest."

Canada put up a hand, calling for silence. They obliged, both worried that he was going to be against the idea of them being together.

What they got instead, however, was a mix of relief and some shock of their own.

"I have been watching you hosers dance around each other ever since seventeen sixty eight… seventeen sixty FUCKING eight… and you're just now admitting your feelings."

Canada's fingers drummed on the steering wheel. "You two are idiots. No joke. My hockey stick has more brains than the two of you put together." He stopped at a traffic light, and gave them a reassuring smile that was full of happiness for them.

"It's about time you two got on with it, eh?"

* * *

**_AN: AAAND THAT'S ALL FOLKS! _**

_Now, let's chat a minute. _

_About the Omake: I would still like to do one, but I haven't received the response I was hoping for. So I'll keep it in mind for the future, but other than that this fish is fried, babus. If I do end up doing one, it will be posted separately as a one-shot, so keep an eye out if you're interested ^^_

_Points to make: This chapter has mentions of two plot bunnies I have, possibly three. If you picked up on them, congrats, you are in the will for my piece of the interwebz! _

_One of the plot bunnies is Woodstock. Seriously, this needs to be done, and I am willing to put the research in to make it right. _

_The other is what I guess you would call a parody of "Smokey and the Bandit" which would be for the lulz. I see Alfred going to watch the movie and being all like "OMFG I HAVE TO GO GET MATTIE AND DO THIS SHIT RIGHT NOW LETS FUCKING GO!" All because Coors beer was illegal east of the Mississippi River due to the alcohol content, so bringing it east was bootlegging. (I have seen this movie so many times it's sickening. Thanks daddy -_-)_

**And finally, I offer up my most heartfelt thank you to the following peoples:**

**_People who followed:_** **BlossomingLuck, Dolly-Doll-Face, caramelkreme, Pyropockey96, apple abs, Anime Apprentice, hush a deathful lullaby, 91RedRoses, Hetaliafanficnoob, gothicfox1998, moonlit dark, SocietyMember, Green Devil, Hidekideki, lovesunberry, Phantomsonic, Eng-chan, tomatoesarethebomb**… _Thank you for your patronage! 17 follows is awesome in my book You flatter me with your interest._

**_People who Faved:_** **XxxForeverfallenangelXxx, Imstillthemockingjay, Amy Art 13, xBluieLovex**… _I rolled with glee when you faved my work. That means a lot to me, and motivates the muses. Thank you!_

**_Babus who reviewed:_** **Dolly-Doll-Face, 91RedRoses,** … _if you were in front of me, I would kiss you. You three gave me reviews, along with a few anonymous ones, and I am eternally grateful for your feedback. Thank you… thank you so much. Reviews are the fuel that keep me running, not because of interest in the story, but that it was good enough that you took your time to offer compliments, and ask questions (or give my muses a good thrashing, 91RedRoses XD). _

_To anyone I may have forgotten or overlooked, thank you as well._

_So now, the muses shall take their leave from this one, and move on to the others in progress._

_I hope to see all of you again in my inbox. Have a wonderful day!_

_-E.P.C._


	6. OMAKE!

AN: Okay, so I haven't been too quick about getting this out. And I apologize. But you can blame the laptop. I use my laptop to write with while I'm in the kitchen watching my son of a day. At night, I use my PC in my bedroom. My laptop decided to be a major douche and lock me out of Windows. So I've spent all week wiping the drive and reinstalling everything. It's 12 years old, so it takes some time for it to work. (It only has 56 GB of memory D:)

So, after the huge demand, and many reviews from my lovely followers, I have cooked up the Omake it would seem many were eager for. I am deeply flattered, to say the least.

Now I'll be quiet and let you get on with it. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: HOT SMEXY TIME IN A VAN BETWEEN HOT SMEXY MEN X3

* * *

*later that evening…*

After reaching Canada's house, the three had sat down to a fun afternoon of beer and banter, punctuated by plenty of teasing of Canada's bear. The poor thing had had enough by sunset, and had fled the den for the quiet safety of the bedroom.

The nation himself, however, had had enough of his two guests cuddling and cooing by the end of supper. He shooed them out of the house and told them to go get it out of their systems in the woods or something because he did NOT want to see it.

This, in America's mind, translated to nabbing the keys to his brother's van and taking off with England to find a secluded spot down the road, his brother yelling and shaking his fist furiously at them as they drove away laughing like lunatics.

That's where they were currently, down a long dirt road deep in the woods of Canada, snuggled up in the backseat of the van, with the low thrum of "Ready for Love" floating out of the speakers, giving the mood in the vehicle the perfect feeling.

America sat next to England, his nose currently buried in the crook of the other's neck, nuzzling him lovingly. England, once again buzzed out of his mind, chuckled when the fringe of the boy's bangs tickled his exposed skin.

"It's a nice evening. Not to hot… not to cold." The elder sifted his fingers through silky golden hair, unable to keep a smile of contentment from his lips.

The other nodded; kissing a sensitive spot behind England's ear and making him shiver. "Even the rain sounds nice." Sighing, he pulled away and settled his head on his shoulder. "Too bad we can't take advantage of this, and put this backseat to good use."

England brushed his cheek against his hair. "What do you mean, love?"

"Well, we could always…" Here he looked up to meet his gaze, both green and blue deepened by the shadows of the evening. "You know… do it."

This was amusing to the other. "And just which 'It' are you referring to?"

America growled in a playful manner and shoved his arm lightly. "You KNOW what I'm talking about. Sheesh."

England laughed, knowing that if the light was right, he would be able to see the blush on the other's face. "And why can't we do it? Matthew probably thinks we are anyway. I don't see the harm in it."

"Because my ass is still sore from the pounding it took last night. That's why."

That made the Brit laugh harder. "Oh, and that's supposed to deter me from having a bit of fun?"

The younger was startled by the sudden movement that England took as he proceeded to straddle his lap, trapping his thighs between his knees and lacing his arms around his neck.

England gave him a smug look. "Well well, what do we have here?"

America tilted his head, perplexed. "What do you mean?" His arms rose and wrapped around his waist to help steady him on his perch. "What are you doing, Arthur?"

"Heh heh heh…" He leaned in and murmured in the other's ear. "Who says it has to be your arse taking the pounding, hmm?" His tongue snaked out and traced the shell of flesh, feeling his arms tighten around him.

"Mmm… are you saying it's my turn now?" America could feel his cock stirring at the thought of being buried to the balls within England's hole, his imagination currently in overdrive. "Because if it is, I'd be more than happy to take you up on the offer."

"Oh yes, it's definitely your turn." England shimmied his hips making their clothed members rub against one another, a hiss escaping them both. "I want you to fuck me, Alfred. I need you to bury yourself as deep inside me as you can, and fuck me senseless." A tremor of anticipation raced through him, his hips still moving in a slow, sensuous manner.

Fucking hell! How could America deny him what he so obviously wanted? Not that he would, hell no. He pulled him closer, one hand slipping away from the other's waist to seize his nape. "I'd be happy to, sir."

Pulling his head down, he smashed their lips together in a heated kiss. Their tongues tangled together in frenzy while their hands went to work on each other's clothing. Shirts and shoes went flying into the front seat, a sneaker hitting the radio and changing the channel to another station currently blaring a song by Rush.

With a sudden move, America had England sprawled out on the fluffy seat cover, his mouth blazing fire down his chest and torso. "My God, you're so perfect. So very, very perfect." His hands tore his pants off, those too landing somewhere in the front on the dash. "I could spend the rest of eternity like this."

Boxers flew in the same direction, and suddenly England had a crotch full of eager male, a nose buried in the curls that surrounded his cock, a hand stroking his enflamed member. "F-Fuck, Alfred!" The nose moved, and hot lips were sucking their way up his shaft with eager intention. "Oh God, yes yes yes, fuck yes!"

America, always aiming to please, made his way to the tip of his cock, his tongue darting out to tease the slit. "Tell me what you want me to do, baby." He wasn't a virgin, and he had sucked off a couple of people in the past, so he didn't have any problem doing this. In fact, one could say he had quite the oral fixation when it came to putting things in his mouth.

England rose up on his elbows, and glared down at him. "Suck me, dammit." His back left the seat as his member was engulfed in the hot moist cavern of the other's mouth. "A-AHH!"

The younger one wasted no time in getting down to business, his tongue keeping a steady rhythm with his lips as they both worked the hard flesh at their disposal. He bobbed his head slowly, his eyes flicking upwards to study the expressions on England's face.

Threading his hands through that gorgeous hair, England tossed his own back, throaty moans escaping him as his fingers kneaded and tugged, urging him to move faster, use more force, make more friction with that devilish tongue of his. "Yes, just like that." His eyes drifted shut as the waves of pleasure washed over him. Damn, Alfred was good at this! "Mmnnn, fuck yes, suck it love, suck it…"

The other moved his head faster, steadily gaining speed, eagerly taking all of his cock in his mouth and down his throat, mouth and lips working in time to give maximum stimulation. His own member was threatening to break its confinement, the feeling of slick precum against his clothing slowly driving him out of his mind. He groaned around the mouthful of Englishman, drawing a ragged gasp from him. Damn, he needed to be inside Arthur, and soon!

As if reading his mind, the tap of something plastic on his hand holding down a hip caught his attention. England was offering him a tube, the same one from the night before.

"Go on, get me ready." England's breath was coming in shallow, harsh gasps. His lower regions were burning, his release close at hand. "M-Meri, I'm going to come… oh God, so close…"

It took a bit of skill to lube your fingers while keeping a good rhythm sucking someone's dick. But somehow America managed to do just that, coating his fingers thoroughly with the viscous liquid and tossing the container aside. Shifting so he could work with ease, he kept up his work on England's now throbbing cock while sliding a finger down to rub against his puckered hole. His cheeks hollowed out as he created a vacuum around him, sucking and licking him with frenzy while waiting for the right moment to penetrate him.

It was too much for the older nation to handle, the combination of a slick digit massaging his entrance while that wicked mouth worked his shaft with gusto.

"A-Alfred… I'm… FUCK! ALFRED! YEEES!"

Unable to hold it back any longer, England reached his peak, his orgasm crashing through him, sending waves of raw pleasure through his body.

America focused on making sure he swallowed all of his release while taking the opportunity to slip a finger inside him, his orgasm masking any discomfort he would have felt from the intrusion.

England gasped in shock, the combination of the pleasure and the pressure of the invasion making him feel a bit dizzy. However he was quick to bring himself under control, his focus now on the digit stroking his inner walls, making him yearn for something more substantial.

The other released the spent member, which was slowly growing back to its full glory thanks to his hand's ministrations. "Are you alright?"

He nodded, a light laugh leaving him as he released his death grip on America's hair. "Yes, I'm fi-iine…" That finger had barely grazed his sweet spot, sending him into a fit of squirming. He attempted to move so he could bury it deeper inside, but America's other hand still held him in check, keeping him from bucking.

"Mrrgh, Alfred…" England frowned, needing more than what he was being offered. "Another, put another inside! You're taking too long…"

That made America snort in amusement. "Hey, you can't rush these things. Besides, I don't want to hurt you." He pressed light butterfly kisses to his inner thighs, slipping a second one in with the first, and carefully stretching his passage. "I want to be as careful with you as you were with me."

Oh god, that made England's chest ache with the wave of emotion he felt from his softly spoken words. Really, how had he denied himself this for so long? He flinched a bit as America added the third and final finger to the mix. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

This made America smile. "Yeah, but I wouldn't mind hearing it again." His finger brushed the other's prostate again, making him arch his back and moan, a soft chant of "More, give me more" reaching his ears. "I think you're ready."

He pulled his fingers out carefully, and was quick to rid himself of the last of his clothing. Fishing around on the floor, he found the abandoned tube. Squeezing out more on his fingers, he tossed it away once more, coating his member generously.

England watched all this with hooded eyes, his heart racing with anticipation. He had wanted him like this for sooo long, both below AND above him. It was all he could do to keep from snatching him down and impaling himself on that ample shaft and riding him like one of his cowboys rode a bull.

Wait, why couldn't he do that?

An evil grin crept up his lips, watching America now wipe the excess lubricant off his fingers on a napkin he had dug out from somewhere. When the other had discarded the paper, he sat up. "You, lay down on the floor."

"Huh?"

England arched his brow once again, and pointed. "Lie down, right there. I don't want to be on my back for this."

It took a moment for the other to figure out what he was getting at. And then he grinned, his pearly white teeth glimmering in the faint light. "Oooh, I see where this is going. Okay then!"

America scrambled to get into position, lying flat on his back and propping his feet up in the seat for comfort. England followed him, slipping to his knees and crawling over to him to once more straddle his 'steed'

Propping his hands on a well-muscled chest, England leaned over and pressed his lips to Americas in a sweet kiss. "Thank you."

"No problem." They smiled at each other, their eyes showing their hunger for what was next.

Lifting himself up on his knees, England reached around and seized America's cock, positioning it at his entrance. Taking a deep breath, he pushed downwards. The head of the member slipped through his ring of muscles with ease. Slowly, he eased himself down, impaling himself on rigid, fevered flesh. His hand came to rest with the other now propped on America's abdomen.

America's eyes fell closed, his mouth gaping slightly at the exquisite sensation that was engulfing his shaft. He felt incredible surrounding him, the humid heat and tight grip nearly making him come on the spot. "Jesus Christ..." The further the other sank down, the harder it became to breathe. "Arthur… oh god, Arthur…

Together they breathed out as England's ass came to rest on America's thighs, one cock buried deep within the one on top, the other's cock already back at full attention and begging for more attention. Almost as one, they leaned in and met in a smoldering kiss, their positions shifting ever so slightly to allow them more comfort. It lasted only moments, enough time to let the elder adjust to the invasion, and to keep the younger from blowing his load prematurely.

Pulling away from his rider, America lay back down, and rested his hands on the other's hips. His eyes were almost black with lust, a low growl coming from his chest. "Move. Now."

Loving the tone of command in his voice, England complied with his demand, rising up until only the head was still within him, and sinking back down again. He was so full, his passage feeling as though it were stretched to its limits. "Ahh… Alfred, mmm…. So big… your cock is so big, ahh…"

All too soon they were moving together, the rise of America's hips meeting the downward rolls of England's. Hands were restless, moving to caress tender flesh of chests and stomachs, eyes locked onto one another as they once again engaged in the dance of passion. For the moment, their actions were slow, the two enjoying the intimacy of their joined bodies, their pleasure derived from the sensations of being close to one another in this way.

But the yearning for more had them thrusting together with more force in no time. Their angle of interception shifted with each move, until England suddenly threw himself downwards and cried out.

"There! Right there!"

Smirking, America began to pump his hips at the perfect angle, striking his prostate dead on with each thrust upwards. His hand grasped the other's member and began pumping in time with his hips. He was beginning to lose his grip on his control, the jolts of pleasure rocketing through his being becoming more intense by the second. "Come on baby, you're almost… almost there… ahh."

He was going to come very soon, but he was determined that the other would first.

England had began sobbing, keening with each hit to that spot. It was good, so damn good! "Al… god… yes… harder, please!" He was almost at his limit again, the effort of holding back tiring him out faster than he'd expected.

They sped up, their speech descending into primal moans and cries of encouragement. Fevered, sweat slick skin slid and slammed together, the sounds combined with their harsh breathing and the musk of their coupling assaulting their senses, driving them to the brink together.

"Ahh… ah… yes... YES! ALFRED!"

"FUUUCK! ARTHUR, GODDAMNIT!"

"ALFRED! AHHHGH!"

"YES!"

Together, they came, both caught in the seizure of their combined release. While thick ropes of come scalded England's passage, filling him to overflowing, his own seed spurted out, coating the hand still pumping his member savagely. After several moments, it was all over. Neither had anything more to offer.

Thoroughly spent, England collapsed, falling to rest heavily on top of America, his head lying on his shoulder as he shook and trembled with the aftershocks of their lovemaking. The younger's arms came up to hold him close, both shaking as much as he was. They laid there, catching their breath, content and thoroughly satisfied.

The sound of a car pulling up cut through the haze of their foggy minds. The voice of what seemed to be a very pissed off Canadian grew louder as they observed the discarded clothing scattered throughout the front seat, the words "You fuckers are going to pay for the cleaning bill!" quite audible, they managed to sit up, still wrapped around each other.

England, who was in very high spirits, grinned at America, who grinned back. "I have a question for you, before we end up Polar Bear chow.

"Oh? What's that?"

England leaned in, his grin morphing to a smirk in a flash, to ask him in a very low, very sexy, and very smug manner….

"Who's the butt pirate now?"

* * *

*da dum* *tiss*

*authoress exits the stage*


	7. Notice of Things to Come

This post is for two things.

One, because of all the positive responses I have received, I have decided that I will write a sequel for Butt Piratin'. Personally, I would love to explore England and America's relationship even further.

Here's a little bit to tide you over….

* * *

After rushing home from work, eager to spend time with his beloved after being apart so long, America was barely through the door when he told the other of his plans for the upcoming weekend. He just knew he'd agree, it would be so perfect! They could have a cook-out, and play all sorts of games!

But what he didn't think about was the way England would respond to the suggestion, not really being too clear on his early life long before he was even born.

"No! Absolutely not!" England crossed his arms, turning away from him with a huff. "Why would you even suggest such a thing?!"

America pouted, wrapping his arms around the elder's waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. "But Arthuuur, it will be fun! Imagine it, all of our family gathered together, having fun, enjoying the festivities…"

Green eyes narrowed and cut over to eye him with annoyance. "What is it with you wanting to drag everyone into our lives? I say we leave well enough alone, and have fun by ourselves."

"But…"

"Think about it love." England turned back around and returned the embrace, a slight smirk on his lips. "We could go see the sights, have dinner, then maybe…" Here he pressed himself close, his fingers travelling to the nape of his neck to play with his hair. "…Maybe… we can indulge in another type of fun?"

The younger one groaned, a hopeful look on his face. "Could we have some of that fun now?"

"You must by psychic. I was thinking the same thing." England leaned in to kiss him.

But America was not to be deterred from his line of thought so easily.

"After we call everyone and invite them over."

Making a sound of utter disgust, England stepped back and pushed him away. Jabbing a finger at his nose, the elder nation growled at him. "Now you see here…"

"Oh, come on!"

"NO WAY… I am spending this holiday…"

"Please?! Pretty please?!"

"… Surrounded by my bloody brothers!"

* * *

I'll let you have fun figuring out what's going down ^^

Also, it was brought to my attention that I named the wrong person PM of the UK in chapter one. I apologize for not double checking my sources for the information I used to put the facts relevant to the time frame in. I have corrected my mistake, and will be more careful in the future.

Have a wonderful day!

-E.P.C.


End file.
